


The Blower's Daughter

by MyMy



Category: 5 Seconds of Summer (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Music Store, Angst with a Happy Ending, Bisexual Calum, Bisexual Michael, Lashton - Freeform, M/M, Musician Calum, Shop Owner Michael, but they become besties again, malum, michael owns a cat, past clemmings
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-06-01
Updated: 2016-07-08
Packaged: 2018-07-11 13:18:54
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 10,141
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7053337
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MyMy/pseuds/MyMy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“Did you need something else?” Michael inquires politely a little confused himself.</p><p>“I was wondering if I could get your number actually?” The stranger asks biting his lip into his mouth quickly.</p><p>“Oh sure!” Michael replies happily. He reaches around the register to the side facing the customer and feels around for the little stack of cards with the shop info on it and the logo embossed in solid black.</p><p>“Here this has the shop number right here.” Michael points to the tiny row of numbers on the card. “So if you need anything don’t be afraid to call, okay? We can do special orders as well so anything music related we’ll try our best to get it for you!”</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter One

**Author's Note:**

> Okay, Hi! This is the first part of this giant, gross af, angsty, fluffy, angsty fic monster inspired by the song the title comes from. Specifically the version by Matt McAndrew. Enjoy! Please please please leave a comment/kudos if you like it i'm v nervous about this and it's kinda my baby.

Michael has been living alone for five months now.

He’s not entirely alone. 

He has Jecht, the old cat him and Luke adopted from the shelter across town last year.

Either way he’s been the only human in his apartment for five months and it’s fine. He’s not there right now anyway he’s in this bar. This dingy little hole in the wall dive he found while he was wandering the streets to avoid going back home and sitting in his empty apartment to stare at the outline on the wall where Luke’s stupid framed AC/DC signed vinyl used to hang.

He’s fine too.

He’s doing just as well on his own as he did when he wasn’t alone. His music shop is more successful than ever and he’s even started having private guitar lessons in the back for young kids who still believe they can become rockstars in their 20s. He’s started going to the gym too. Sometimes. Occasionally. Whatever, the point is he’s fine.

He’s just sitting in a booth on the far side of the room with a clear view of the bar and entrance beyond it when the door swings open and in steps a tall lanky figure he hasn’t seen in five months. Michael’s breath catches when he hears his laughter clear across the room over the din of the other patrons and the music playing like his ears are still tuned to the sound of that voice. Michael swallows hard past the lump in his throat and takes another drink of his beer. His eyes haven’t left where Luke is turning toward a guy with honey blond curly hair and a smile that’s bright and sharp but warm and directed at Luke like he sees the spring flowers growing in his blue lilac eyes. Like he sees him the way Michael used to, before the late nights at the shop and arguments. 

The heavy silences and scathing comments muttered under breaths. The Talk about Luke not feeling like Michael even wanted him around anymore. The silence that followed and sighs and sniffling that they both pretended the other couldn’t hear while Luke packed up a bag and left that night without saying goodbye and let the door close quietly behind him. 

Michael can’t look away from where Luke and this guy are standing at the bar closer than necessary and talking through grins and Luke is doing the ridiculous thing with his eyebrows, he only does when he’s trying to flirt with a guy. Michael used to watch him do it when he was trying to get free drinks when they would go out, just to prove that he could. Michael watches them silently like he can’t tear his eyes away.

They touch each others shoulders and hands liberally and smile coyly through lashes and behind drinks. Michael finishes his beer without noticing at first. He quickly pulls some cash from his wallet and leaves it on the table before sliding out of the booth and walking hastily toward the exit. He glances over his shoulder at the door and catches the eyes of the man Luke is with, his date, Michael’s brain supplies. He only lingers a moment and he guy smiles at him like he’s just kind and it’s not weird of Michael to stare at him.

Michael pushes the door open and steps out into the dark street the cold breeze steals his breath and he struggles to get it back before starting the walk back toward his apartment. His beers sit heavy in his stomach and he feels too warm under his shirt. He’s still struggling to get his breath back and his vision keeps blurring until he blinks it back into focus. 

He stops there in the middle of the pavement.

He feels the tears welling up in his eyes and bile in his throat. He wants to run back to the bar and beg Luke to come home with him. He wants to lay down right there and never get up again. He want’s Luke come get his stupid cat and to hang his record back up on the wall. He wants to put the last five months back into order with Luke still in them. He wants to go back to the night they had That Talk and deny every doubt he ever had about his heart and where Luke belonged in it. He wants to not be alone. 

But he knows now that’s not an option. He knows none of those are options and he lets the tears roll down his cheeks while he walks home silently. He waits until he gets to his couch to break down. He buries his face into a pillow and sobs like he hasn’t let himself before. All the pain his heart’s been suppressing since Luke carried the last of his things out of their apartment and left his keys on the table by the door takes over and lets the fat hot tears stain the pillow below him and doesn’t bother moving away from it. He falls asleep there after the tears subside, staring at the spot on the wall where Luke’s signed AC/DC vinyl used to hang. 

Michael wakes up groggy the next day and groans while he rubs his face into the couch. He lays there for a moment and let's the events of last night wash over him. 

Luke was clearly on a date. He looked happy and like he was having fun. He was flirting and smiling and laughing with this new guy and Michael couldn’t even bare to watch it. So it's been five months and Luke is going on dates again. Michael knows that's reasonable, he does. It still makes his gut hurt and his heart pull dangerously close to tears.

He sighs.

Michael is contemplating getting up and going down to shop or if he could get away with spending the entire day on his couch when he hears the tiny tinkle of a bell. Suddenly he has a faceful of soft cottony gray fur and Jecht is mewing and purring and rubbing himself all over Michael’s face. He sits up and pulls the cat into his arms. 

“I saw your other dad last night, ya know.” He says scratching behind Jecht’s ears and making him purr even louder. “You don’t even care though, do you?” he asks the cat. He stands and carries Jecht with him into the kitchen, he sets the cat on the counter and retrieves his little dish. It’s a tiny ceramic bowl with fish skeletons all over it. Luke insisted they buy it but Michael always thought it was stupid. He fills the bowl and sets it on the counter in front of the cat and goes about making something to eat for himself. He hasn’t been grocery shopping in a couple weeks so the pickings are slim and he settles on reheated takeout. He stands at the counter and eats his leftovers beside Jecht, occasionally making comments to the cat whose only response is to glance at Michael with an expression that Michael can just tell is thoroughly unimpressed.

Michael is doing inventory at the shop. He did decide to leave the house after one too many disgruntled glances from Jecht. He doesn’t mind this part of owning the music store as much as everything else. It’s mind numbing but it makes it easier for him to get through the day. He’s currently rearranging a shelf of cleaning products toward the back, trusting his employees to take care of the customers and such while he gets a shelf ready for a new shipment of vinyl cleaner kits.

He's squatting down to finish stocking back a bottom shelf when a pair of roughed up dirty black vans appear in front of him. He follows them up the black skinny jean clad legs to the well muscled arms and torso of a man with beautiful brown skin and finally to a face that has Michael staring despite himself. The man in front him has full pouty lips and eyes dark brown like espresso. 

“Hi.” He smiles down at Mikey and Jesus Christ his teeth are lovely. Fuck. Michael stands kinda quickly and grabs the shelf next him as the blood rushes to his head for a second. He clears his throat.

“Hi. What can I help you with?” Michael asks smiling back closed lip with his best I own this store voice.

“Um i’m looking for strings for my bass?” The guys replies warmth in his eyes and smile still in place. He would have had to walk directly past them to get to Michael. _So he’s either completely unobservant or he missed them on purpose._ Michael’s brain supplies to him. Michael sighs inwardly.

“There actually right here behind you!” He says cheery customer service voice in place and gestures over the guy’s shoulder they both go to move at the same time and Michael bumps into him accidentally tripping back into the nearly empty box of vinyl cleaner and cloths. The guy reaches for Michael’s wrist to steady him and Michael can’t help the blush that creeps across his face at the sound of the bottles bumping around in the box he’s kicked. He sighs inwardly and gently pulls his wrist free. 

“Sorry about that, I tend to be kind of clumsy sometimes.” Michael trailed off as he turned around and began to pick up the bottles that had fallen. He heard what almost sounded like a small chuckle behind him and he tried his best to clean the mess he had made. He could still tell that the man was behind him, probably just looking at the strings that he was looking for. He snuck a look behind him, and saw the same boy leaning over and, just as he suspected, looking at bass strings. _God, he’s got a great ass…_ Michael quickly pushed away his thought and went back to picking up the bottles on the floor. After shoving them all onto the shelf haphazardly he grimaced at them knowing he’d have to come back and make it look more presentable later. He turned back toward the guy watching as he examined one pack of strings and compared it to another. 

“I prefer these ones myself.” Michael suggested, flicking the pack the customer held in his left hand. 

“Thanks I went this other shop but they didn’t even have any bass strings, like, at all.” The guy says. “Think I’ll go with these then.” He holds the same ones Michael suggested up and shoves the others back on the hook with the rest of them. He smiles at Michael and as he hands them to him and Michael smiles back politely. They linger for a moment and Michael turns toward the front of shop quickly when he senses an awkward silence creeping on. 

He hears the guy follow and leads him the counter where the old cash register sits unmanned. Michael sighs at that because of course Fiona would just walk away. He rings the man up and bags his strings in a tiny brown paper bag he could easily shove in his pocket if need be. 

“Thanks for shopping at Fairy Floss!” Michael enthuses the way he only does in the shop. He smiles again as he guy takes a step behind him toward the exit. He pauses though before stepping right back up to the counter. 

“Um actually.” He starts but pauses and furrows his brow. 

“Did you need something else?” Michael inquires politely a little confused himself. 

“I was wondering if I could get your number actually?” The stranger asks biting his lip into his mouth quickly. 

“Oh sure!” Michael replies happily. He reaches around the register to the side facing the customer and feels around for the little stack of cards with the shop info on it and the logo embossed in solid black. 

“Here this has the shop number right here.” Michael points to the tiny row of numbers on the card. “So if you need anything don’t be afraid to call, okay? We can do special orders as well so anything music related we’ll try our best to get it for you!” 

He holds the card out for the guy to take and notices that a red tint has started to creep across his golden cheeks. Michael hesitates a little sensing that something is off just a bit when the man takes the card and shoves it in his pocket quickly like it's offended him. He pauses again before sighing down at his feet and shaking his head just a little. He seems to gather himself quickly before smiling brightly at Michael and thanking him as he makes a rather hasty exit in Michael’s opinion. Michael watches the door for a moment to be sure another customer isn’t coming in before he heads back to organize the shelves he abandoned before. 

He's just about to slip back to the back when Fiona appears out of the office, and nearly scares Michael into an early grave, laughing. 

“Oh my god, Mike!” she wheezes in laughter. He bristles because he's not sure what's funny but he knows he’s being laughed at and he hates not being in on the joke. 

“What?” He scowls back at her. Luke used to say he looked like a rumpled kitten when he did that so instead he tries to sooth his face into something like indifference. He's not sure how well that works judging by the snicker he gets from Fiona. 

“You are seriously so clueless, Mike.” She sighs. “He was totally trying to hit on you.” 

“Who?” Michael says whipping around like the offending person will show themselves at Michael's command. 

“Oh my god, Mikey!” Fiona whines at him slumping over the counter like a petulant teenager. “That hot piece of ass that just asked for your number, you knob!” She gestures an arm toward the door. Michael sighs again, he feels like he’s been doing that a lot today. 

“No he wasn’t.” Michael says definitively. Fiona snorts into her arm and rolls her eyes so hard Michael’s amazed they don’t fall out and roll across the counter. 

“He absolutely fucking was.” She says. They stare at each other for a moment before she simply quirks an eyebrow at him. 

“He asked for the shop number? How is that hitting on me?” Michael throws his arms up in exasperation. 

“No! He asked for your number! If he wanted the shop number he could have grabbed a card himself!” She replies just as exasperated. Michael flounders for a response and in the end comes up with nothing. He didn’t even get the guys name nor did he ask for Michael's so whatever. 

“Whatever.” Michael huffs and walks, not stomps he's not a teenager, away. Fiona makes a scathing noise behind him that he ignores. She's not mad at him, not really. She’s just determined that Michael gets out of his post-Luke funk by trying to make him date every fucking guy or girl that comes into the shop. And honestly it's annoying but he can't be mad because Fiona has always been like this. 

They’ve known each other longer than Michael’s known anyone else from the city. She was the first person he befriended when he moved into his first apartment just down the street from the shop. He accidently walked into her apartment the afternoon of his second day living there and they ended up screaming at each other from opposite sides of her kitchen table when he tried to explain his mistake after she nearly hit him with a still hot frying pan. It took a few months after that but eventually they got past the awkwardness of their first encounter slowly. When Michael came to her aid one afternoon when a crazy ex boyfriend tried to attack her in the lobby and he just happened to be there, they became friends soon after. 

Fiona is Michael’s closest friend and his first employee of the shop. So she also happens to be the one Michael cried on after him and Luke broke up and is the one who is now determined that he get over him and find a ‘hotter and nicer date mate’. Michael's fine though. He was alone for years before he was with Luke and he’d rather be alone again now. And that's all it is. He's not holding out hope for a failed relationship to just magically right itself after five months, he’s not. He knows better and he’s fine with that. 

So he brushes Fiona off and goes back to stocking his shelves and completely forgets about the handsome stranger with brown eyes. He goes home after he closes the shop and has dinner, take out again, sitting on the counter with Jecht. And he finds a bottle of vodka in the back of the freezer and drinks it all before he falls asleep on the couch staring at the damn dust outline on the wall again. 

Michael is pitched into consciousness the next morning by his ringtone blasting loudly and vibrating across the coffee table in front of his face. He groans at the headache beating against his temples and rubs his face into the couch cushion before blindly swatting out a hand for his phone. He whacks his knuckles on the underside of the table and winces but smacks his phone to floor onto the rug with a sigh. He peeks one eye out to see the tail end of a call from the shop. It immediately lights up again as the call comes in again this time it’s Fiona’s bright smile and green hair looking back at him and he slides a finger across the screen and hits speaker just as her voice comes through loud and a little panicked. 

“Michael!” She almost shouts. “You need to come down here right now! Oh my god!” her accent is a little thicker in her excitement and Michael sits up immediately scrambling to get his phone off the floor. 

“What? What’s wrong? What’s going on?” He questions her quickly as he gets up to rush to his room and find any clean pair of pants he can. He stumbles over his black skinnies from yesterday and deems them acceptable as this is an emergency and they’re black so it’s not like anyone will notice. He tosses his phone on the bed and shoves his feet in them to start working them up his legs. Damn him for wearing such tight fucking clothes he thinks as he falls onto his bed to jerk them up his hips. Fiona is rambling away still on the phone that’s muffled somewhere under Michael now. He quickly rips a shirt from his closet and pulls it over his head. He grabs his phone and exits his room as quick as he can while listening to his best friend panic about something to do with all the bass guitars. He catches a glimpse of himself in the mirror by the door while he’s grabbing his keys and makes a face at the state of hair.  
“Okay, Fiona!” He says. “FiFi, listen to me!” He has to practically shout over her get her to quiet down and listen to him. 

“I’m outside my apartment already! I’ll be there in like ten minutes okay?” He sighs, trying to calm her down. 

“Okay!” she squeaks out and then the line goes dead. Michael shoves his things in his pocket and heads for the lobby as quickly as possible. He takes the stairs two at a time and runs through the lobby of his building like a madman. He pauses and slows down a little when he sees the old lady for 23A giving him a strange look as she waits for the elevator with her pitbull Rufus presumably just back from their morning walk. 

Michael jogs the entire way to the store and is sweating by the time he gets to the block his shop is on. He said he was going to the gym _sometimes_ okay so sue him. He’s glad the shirt he blindly threw on his a cut off though because his skinny jeans are seriously clinging in all the wrong places right now and he needs some coffee if he’s gonna deal with a musical emergency after drinking a half a fifth by himself last night. As soon as he gets to storefront Fiona is behind the counter mentioning him inside with a huge arm gesture and the person walking past him as he reaches for the door looks between them briefly before hurrying away down the pavement. Michael despite himself and scurries inside the shop quickly. 

Michael rounds the corner of the counter and Fiona grabs his elbow to pull him into the office area and slams the door closed. 

“Jesus Christ, Fi!” Michael says “We have customers! What’s the matter?” 

“The bassist is here! He’s been here all morning!” She squeals at him going over the window that looks into the shop and pushing the blinds apart at eye level. Confused, Michael goes over and peeks over her shoulder to see what she’s going on about. It takes him a minute but he catches onto what she means when his eyes land on the same guy from yesterday. He’s sitting on a stool by the wall of guitars in front of the bass section. He’s got a bass in his lap and he hunched over it playing out rhythm that Michael can’t hear but he can see by the way the guy’s fingers move over the frets that he’s skilled at it. 

“He's been here for like an hour!” Fiona says turning around and pushing Michael away from the window. He's got like at least a foot on her and she still manages to make him stumble backwards. 

“Has anyone talked to him?” Michael asks. 

“No! Of course not! I told everyone to stay away until you got here!” Fiona squeaks indignantly. 

“He's sat out there with no customer service for an hour?” Michael almost yells. Fiona has the decency to look a little shamed by it but she's pushing him toward the door all the same. 

“Okay, Mikey, that was dumb I admit, but now is your chance. You have a hot, musically inclined guy in your shop who has shown interest in you. Go woo him and don't fuck it up.” Fiona shoves him toward the bass guitars and when Michael looks back at her scathingly she only smiles and encouragingly and makes a shoo-shoo gesture. 

Michael straightens out his shirt as he makes his approach to the bassist, grimaces as an afterthought about the condition his hair is in. The stranger looks up right as Michael gets to him and smiles brilliantly. His smile is just as pretty as it was yesterday and makes his face squish up cutely. 

“Hi, do you need help with anything?” Michael smiles back and remembers he didn't brush his teeth in his panic to leave. Ugh. He should fire Fiona, honestly. 

“Oh ummm I was looking at getting a new bass?” The stranger says it like a question and Michael can’t control the smirk that turns up the corner of his mouth. He quirks an eyebrow and the other man seemingly loses his grip on the bass he's holding at the same moment. They both fumble to keep it from hitting the floor and Michael takes it gingerly to hang it back with the others while his customer stumbles out an apology. His cheeks are a little pink and Michael suddenly has the urge to pinch them. They just look so soft and squishy but Michael has self control. 

“Did you have anything in particular in mind then?” Michael queries. “Maybe even just brand or a particular sound?” 

“Oh I mean my fender is my baby so I don't know if anything else can really do it for me. I was just shopping around yknow?” He scratches at the back of head shyly and Michael gets it. He loves his beat old guitar the most of all the ones he's got in the shop and at home. 

“Okay then just feel free to browse and we’ve got people all over the floor so just grab someone and they'll be more than happy to help you!” Michael smiles winningly. He turns to go back to the office and maybe fire Fiona but the guys stops him with a soft, 

“Oh hey! Wait um, Can I ask for your name?” he's smiling brightly at Michael good natured and flirtatious at the same time. Like it's Michael’s choice what side this conversation lands on. He feels his stomach tighten up and throat dry a little. He doesn’t want this guy to get any ideas, he’s not up for anything yet. He’s not over Luke, doesn’t know if he'll ever be over Luke to be frank but this is his shop and he can't just not tell the guy his name. That's rude and poor customer service and this is just not Michael’s morning. 

“My name is Michael.” He shoves his hands in his pockets and looks back at the man with a friendly but hopefully oblivious smile. _Maybe he’ll think I’m straight_ he thinks. 

“Thank you, Michael. My name is Calum.” He extends a hand to Michael and he really can't be rude. Michael takes the proffered hand and gives it a firm shake, totally professional and business-like. Then turns on his heels and marches right back to his office grabbing Fiona by arm and dragging her away from the shelf she's been restocking conveniently within ear shot of Michael and Calum’s conversation. 

“Well,” Fiona questions him giddily, bouncing on the balls of her feet. 

“What did you expect, Fi?” Michael plops down in the squeaky office chair behind his desk he hardly ever uses and let's his head rest on his arms on top of some papers he should probably file away but later. He's wallowing pathetically right now. 

“Uh, did he ask you out? Did you ask him out? Are you guys getting married yet or what?” She asks sarcastically. Michael just gives her a withering look before putting his head back down. 

“Oh come on, baby bear!” she whines. 

“I told you not to call me that.” Michael mumbles into his arm. 

“Excuse you, I have express permission from one Karen Clifford to call you that whenever I want to!” she smirks and turns her nose up at him. 

“Why did I ever let you meet my family,” Michael groans loudly. 

“Because you love me!” she sings songs at him. “And you know I only ever want you to happy, Mikey.” She says far more seriously and far too early for how hungover he still is. 

“I do, Fi. I know.” 

“So, you know I don't like where you're at right now and I only wanna help you get better, love. 

Michael wants to tell her he's fine. He doesn't need to get better. But as he thinks about the fact that he got drunk for second night this week and it's only Wednesday and the state of his apartment. The fact that he hasn't bought groceries in over a month except to get food for his cat and knows that not the truth. 

“I know.” He whispers quietly into his skin. Next thing he knows he being wrapped up in a hug from behind, it's awkward over the side of chair but Fiona’s face is right beside his and he can smell the same spicy sweet scent she always carries around, same since the day they met, and takes comfort in his best friends proximity. 

He's not gonna have another breakdown not right now at work but his throat feels tight and his eyes sting before he blinks it away quickly, swallows hard and turns to dislodge Fiona and stand. 

“You should go back to whatever you were doing. I’m gonna go get everyone lunch.” Michael nods and hugs Fiona once more tightly but briefly. Then he's pushing her out the door and grabs a pen and note pad to go take all his employees orders for the cafe down the street. 

He’s just checking over his list to make sure he got something from everyone when someone clears their throat behind him. He tenses for a moment before turning around. It's the bassist, Calum his mind supplies for him. He's smiling at Michael just as friendly as before and Michael really doesn't know what to do. He can just tell the guy to back off and leave him alone because he’s only been friendly and respectful at this point plus he's a customer technically. 

“Hi, did you need anything?” Michael asks cheerful while trying his hardest to seem detached. 

“Um. Well I actually I just had a question for you,” he replies. 

_Oh god here it comes_ , Michael thinks. He raises his eyebrows in a go ahead gesture. 

“I was wondering if I could get your number. Like not the stores like yours if that's something you’d be okay with.” Calum asks and he's blushing by the time he finishes. 

“Oh,” Michael begins apologetically, “I don't give my personal number out to customers…” 

Calum is actually full on blushing now his cheeks are very rosy pink and it's leaking down his neck as well. 

“I wasn't ask as a customer. Um. I meant as someone who's interested in asking you out possibly or just like um getting to know you maybe. As friends maybe.” Calum stutters. 

“Oh.” Michael says softly. “ I’m sorry, I um I’m not really, I don't think that's a good idea right now. I’m sorry.” Michael is stuttering too now but he's terrible at this. At rejecting people softly. Calum hasn’t done anything wrong and Michael doesn't want him to feel bad he's just not going to date him is all. 

“Right now. Okay. I can deal with that. Um. I’m sorry to have bothered you. Thank you though.” Calum is still blushing and stuttering as he turns to leave and Michael stares after him until he can’t see him past the store front. 

He sighs heavily. In the next second he feels something hit the back of his head. 

“Ow! What the hell?” he turns to see Fiona furiously crumbling sheets of paper from an old notebook to lob at him. He tries to block her assault with his note pad until he can get out the door. He looks back at her exasperated face through the glass and she glares him. Michael widens his eyes and shrugs at her. Fiona makes a shoo-shoo gesture and flips him off as he turns away. 


	2. Chapter Two

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey so sorry I'm The Worst™ and literally didn't update this for a month but here it is!! Shout out to Marcee And Max for the hand holding and helping as usual and again I suck so sorry! Pls leave a comment/kudos if you like it!

After that it's like Calum is in the shop everyday he doesn't always buy anything but he does play the fender precision basses on the wall like he's familiar with them already. He makes it a point to talk to Michael about something if he sees him. Asking questions abouts pickups for his bass or even seemingly random questions about vinyls they have in the few small bins in the corner, just so they have to chat for a few minutes.

He’s always smiling and happy and eager to talk to Michael though, like he doesn’t even remember that Michael rejected him almost a week and a half ago. Same as today.

“Hi, Michael,” Calum says as he’s walking past him down the aisles to toward the back room. Michael doesn’t really have anything to do but he’s trying to keep himself occupied.

“Oh, hello!” Michael stops short and shuffles back a couple steps to where Calum seems to be examining the different types of bass strings, even though he had bought a new pack twice in the past week. Michael looks at him curiously and Calum realizes what Michael is looking at as he fumbles the packs back into their shelf. Michael has to chew his lips to stop himself from giggling at him when Calum almost drops them.

“Can I help you with anything?” Michael asks, some of the laughter creeping into his voice anyway.

“No I’m fine thanks though.” Calum replies the ever present smile lighting his face.

“Are you sure?” Michael asks teasingly, “I can help you find a brand of strings that doesn’t break twice in a week.” 

“Oh so you noticed that.” Calum blushes.

“I do own the shop it’s kind of my job.” Michael laughs.

“Right, well they haven’t broke. I like to think I’m a bit more skilled with my basses than that.” Calum giggles.

“Oh, really?” Michael laughs at Calums faux cockiness, “So why do you need so many strings then, making a stockpile or something?”

“Well I’m honestly just biding my time.” Calum replies relaxing back into his sure posture now that he has Michael engaged.

“Biding it for what?” Michael asks.

“Well, last week you said wasn’t a good time to ask for your number so I’m just waiting.” Calum replies matter of factly.

“What? Wait? I didn’t mean-” Michael sputters, flustered at Calum’s forwardness.

“It’s okay!” Calum says quickly. “I get that it’s only been a week or so but I don’t really have much to do while my band isn’t on tour right now so I have time. I can wait.” he smiles.

“I’m straight,” Michael lies. 

“Dude.” Calum raises a mocking eyebrow at him.

“Shut up!” Michael whines.

“You’re so not, bro!”

“How would you know, bro?”

“Because, we of the same cloth know our own kind.” Calum replies in a stuffy posh put on voice.

“What the fuck?” Michael laughs, “What does that even mean?”

“It means not-straight dudes know other not-straight dudes when they find them.” Calum replies matter-of-factly. 

“Whatever, you totally just made that up.” Michael argues.

“So what if I did? I’m still right! You’re not straight.” Calum states definitely. 

“Okay yeah, I’m bi but you're still full of shit, bro.” Michael laughs.

“I fucking knew it!” Calum crows victoriously. There’s a short pause then,“So?”

“So what?” Michael crosses his arms lazily quirking his brow in Calum’s direction.

“Sooo,” Calum drags out and tips his head forward to put his best puppy eyes on Michael, “Can I have your number?” exasperation and playfulness still in his tone.

Michael clams up immediately, though. He doesn’t know why but he just can't seem to deal with idea of going out with Calum currently. He stares at Calum and can see his posture change the expression on his face losing the playfulness but remaining unshadowed in his seriousness. Michael takes a fortified breath and releases it.

“Listen-”

“It’s totally-”

They both start and stop each other. Calum makes an encouraging motion with his hand and Michael continues when Calum raises his eyebrows at him. 

“I’m not trying to be mean or anything, okay? I just, I really don't think it's a good idea right now. I’m not really in a good place to be dating anyone because,”he stops short to not spew his situation with Luke out. “What with the shop and all of that going on right now.” he finishes lamely.

“No it's totally okay! I get it! Right now you're busy. I get that and I can respect it.” Calum says nodding along to his own words. 

Its silent between them for a moment and Michael is about to make an excuse to get away when Calum speaks up first.

“I have to go! I have band practice in a little bit but I’ll see you later, Mikey.” he says as he's walking away from Michael backwards to keep eye contact as he speaks. He runs into a end cap on one of the aisles and fumbles the little packets hanging down before blushing at Michael with a sheepish grin when Michael snorts into his hand.

“Did you actually just do that again?” Fiona seems to materialize out of thin air lately just to scare the piss out of Michael and it's working.

“Jesus Christ, Fi!” Michael clutches at his chest turning around to face her wide eyed. “I’m getting you a fucking bell to wear.”

“Shut up, Michael. Did you actually just not give him your number again?” She's got the look on her face she reserves for when she thinks Michael is being the biggest idiot he can be and needs to act like his mother. It makes him feel like a chastised puppy and he shrugs ashamedly.

“I can’t fucking deal with you!” Fiona practically squeaks punctuating each word by thwacking Michael with a beginners learn-to-play ukulele book she’s been holding the whole time.

He brings his shoulders up and tries to protect himself as best he can but he knows running from her is pointless because she'd chase him anyway. She has before and it's not the most professional thing a business owner can do with his manager.

“Stop, Fi! Fiona!” Michael tries to grab the book from her hands and they end up in a weird waltz type of step so Michael can still try to dodge her swings but still reach for the book.

“Michael why,” Fiona demands.

“Because you’re trying to bash my head in with ukulele tutorial book!” Michael replies incredulously.

“Not that you arse! Why didn't give him your number?” Fiona finally jerks away and Michael lets go of her to cross his arms defensively. She hits him one more time before putting the book back in it’s display.

“I didn't want to,” Michael mumbles.

“Really, mikey? Seriously?” she sighs.

“Shut up, Fi! I just don't want to okay? It's not your damn business anyway!” Michael shouts before taking off down the aisle to get to the back room. Once through the door he pauses in frustration. He paces across the room when he realizes he can’t remember why he was coming back here anyway. He half heartedly kicks a stack of empty boxes in annoyance at himself and turns to leave. 

He doesn’t want to be here anymore so he grabs his jacket from the office and goes home. 

When Michael arrives at his apartment he strides over to the couch and collapses back into the old soft cushions. Not long after that he hears the The Tell-Tale tingling of a tiny bell then Jecht is jumping up on to his stomach and kneading his shirt while purring loudly against Michael's chest. Michael sighs and puts a hand in Jecht’s smokey silk fur. 

“You should probably be mad at me actually.” Michael tells the ball of fur on his chest. “I yelled at Fiona and then left the shop without saying sorry.” 

Jecht just flicks his tail across Michael's face and he supposes that's as good as a punishment he’ll get from his lazy cat. Michael continues to pet his fingers through Jecht’s smooth fur and let's his mind drift off on its own. 

A few moments later Michael is startled into wakefulness by a sharp knock on his apartment door. He fumbles his phone out of his pocket and sees it's been a few hours since he left the shop.

“Fuck.” he mutters and goes to open his door. When he pulls it open without looking who's there, because honestly he only knows about six people in the city and a robber wouldn't normally knock first, he's bowled over immediately by plastic shopping bags.

He stumbles back to catch everything that's just landed in his arms and stares in shock as Fiona closes the door and kicks off her shoes, without even acknowledging Michael, and strides off into his apartment. He stares after her until she disappears around the corner into the kitchen and then Michael looks at the bags in his arms. He sighs and moves carefully after Fiona.

“Took you long enough. Did you forget where your own kitchen was?” Fiona remarks, her tone is clipped and she's not really making eye contact with Michael. She's mad then, of course. Michael immediately feels like an asshole and starts to unpack the bags after he places them on the counter.

“We're having couscous and chicken.” Fiona states, and starts moving around the room grabbing things out of the cabinets and drawers with more comfort and sureness then Michael has ever had in a kitchen.

“Are you making your dad’s harissa?” Michael asks timidly. Fiona stops and looks at him, they finally make eye contact and Michael feels smaller than a bug. 

“Of course I am, arseface.” she says and grabs the chicken to start cutting it up. Michael sighs.

“Fi, I’m sorry,” Michael starts, she doesn't even act like she heard him over the sound of her knife on the cutting board. “I had no right to yell at you. I know you're only trying to help me but I was just annoyed and I shouldn't have shouted.” 

“No you shouldn't have, wanker.” She puts the knife down and crosses her arms over her middle. Michael immediately goes to wrap his arms around her tightly. 

“I hate it when people shout at me, fucking asshole.” She says quietly into his shoulder. She doesn’t move to hug him back.

“I know. I’m a dick.” Michael huffs out. Fiona wraps him into a tight hug and shakes her head.

“No you're not. I’m sorry I called you mean names while I angry with you.”

“It's fine.” Michael squeezes her tightly for a second thankful that his best friend never actually stays that mad at him. “I’m sorry I was a huge asshole at the shop today.”

“Okay,” Fiona shoves Michael away, “That's enough being crybabies! Grab the big pot with the holes in it for the couscous.” Michael knows it has an actual name but Fiona never uses it.

Fiona makes dinner and Michael helps where he can but the moroccan food is Fiona’s family's recipe and she doesn't ever let Michael know exactly what she does when she cooks them dinner. They sit on the couch and eat and watch reruns of Game of Thrones off the dvr. Fiona nags at Michael about cleaning up and getting groceries soon and it's a pretty normal night in for them.

The next morning Michael wakes up with Fiona’s left foot pressed right into his bladder and has to run to the bathroom after he untangles the throw blanket off the back of the couch from around them. They fell asleep on between episodes and when Michael gets back Fiona is sitting up and her coily hair is flying absolutely everywhere and Michael giggles at her until she flips him off.

They sit at the kitchen table and drowsily have coffee and eggs. It's Saturday so the shop doesn't open until later in the day so Fiona leaves to go home and clean up and Michael decides to start in on his laundry mountain taking over the bedroom. He's grossed out by how out of hand he let it get. As he's shoves a load of shirts in the washer he notices a good charlotte shirt in the mix that was Luke's favorite from when he was younger and kept around out of sentiment. Michael stares at it for a minute before shaking himself hard and pushing the rest of the clothes into the basin. He’ll just have to figure out a way to return it he thinks.

By the time he's done several loads of laundry and almost blasted through the mountain of clothes he's got enough time to shower and grab an early lunch before heading to the shop. He decides to text Fiona to see if she’ll join him and she convinces him to go to a new place that just opened up a few blocks away from the store and his apartment. He showers quickly and dresses in his usual skin tight jeans and large scoopy t-shirt, taking extra time to fluff up his hair. He scratches Jecht behind the ears on the way out the door, thinking of what color he'd like to dye it next on his walk to the restaurant. It's been blond for a while and getting closer to his natural shade the longer he leaves it.

When he gets there he spots Fiona waiting outside playing on her phone. Her dark mass of coils have been tamed back into two tight bun that Michael always say look like teddy bear ears and her deep copper-toned skin is practically glowing warmth in the bright sunlight. Michael really loves his best friend and wishes he had a camera and a decent eye for that shit so he could take a picture and rub it in the face of everyone he knows because their best friend couldn’t possibly be as cute as Michael’s. 

The cafe itself is small and covered in various earthy tones and oddly shaped art that kinda looks garbage and dead plants. It give off the hipster vibe Michael hates because of the pretentiousness but also loves because these places usually have delicious vegan desserts and Michael is weak for them. They head inside and find a seat at a table near the window so they can sit in the sunshine and enjoy their lunch.

They’ve ordered their food and are just about to dig in when Fiona freezes with a forkful of leafy greens and strawberry poised halfway to her mouth. Michael is already chewing on a big bite out of his fancy cafe toastie when he notices her sudden cease in action. She's staring over his shoulder with her eyes glued to someone's movements. 

“Who are you looking at, Fi?” Michael goes to turn around but Fiona’s hand shoots across the table and grips his forearm tightly.

“Ow, what the fuck,” Michael yelps.

“Don’t turn around,” Fiona whispers furiously at him. “The bassist just came in and he hasn't seen you yet!”

“What? Why the fuck do I care, Fiona?” Michael whispers back.

“Because,” she whines,“If he sees you looking at him he might not come over! Yknow because he's embarrassed.”

“Why would he be embarrassed,” Michael sighs tiredly.

“Well, you’ve only rejected him twice now so…” she trails off.

“I just- I didn’t! Ouch! Fiona what the hell?” Michael cries! Pulling his legs under seat and away from her boots. “That was literally all the toes on my right foot! Thank you for-”

“He's coming over here!” she shushes him.

“Hi, Fiona, right?” Calum asks coming to a halt next to their table.

“Yeah! Hi Calum!” she smiles happily at him. He smiles back brightly and then turns to greet Michael as well.

“Hey, Mikey,” Calum says with his sunny smile right in place. 

“Hi,” Michael replies and takes a large bite of his sandwich. He smiles up at Calum with his cheeks full and almost chokes when Calum only laughs back at him.

“So what brings you here Calum?” Fiona asks loudly as she kicks at Michael under the table. Michael tries his best to dodge her and ends up kneeing the table instead causing their plates and drinks to rattle a little. Calum snorts into his palm while Michael curses quietly wincing as Fiona smirks a little more than smiles when Calum explains he doesn’t live far from the new cafe.

“Oh! That's so convenient!” Fiona giggles happily. “Mikey doesn’t live far from here either!” She lays a hand to her chest and looks across the table at Michael with wide purposeful eyes. “Right, Michael?”

“Yeah,” Michael says meeting Fiona’s eyes confused “Just a couple blocks from the shop.” he says slowly.

“That's great!” Calum replies. Glancing to Michael who only raises his eyebrows enthusiastically as he takes another large bite. It falls silent as Michael chews and just as it's getting too long to be comfortable Calum claps his hands together and nods once.

“Well I’m gonna go order!” He points over his shoulder toward the counter. “We have band practice in a couple hours and Ashton will cry if no one brings him breakfast.” He nods again and beats a quick retreat.

Michael and Fiona breathe matching sighs of relief as Calum gets in line near the display cases full of sweet and savory baked goods and snacks.

Michael finishes his bite of sandwich and sips his water to wash it down before he levels Fiona with a look he thinks is as cold as he can muster. Fiona only thinks he looks like a wet kitten but she averts her gaze and picks through her salad in an attempt to seem chastised anyway. 

“Why?”

“Why what?” 

“Why did you tell him I lived near here Fiona?” Michael whispers furiously across the table. He leans forward enough to almost let the loose scoop of his collar brush the table. She sighs like this is a ridiculous question and Michael should feel dumb for asking. “ He could be a crazy stalker that wants to break into my apartment and wear me!”

“Because, Mikey, he's cute and and nice and he likes you.” Fiona snorts. “He's not a crazy stalker.”

“Yeah well I fucking told you I don’t feel like-”

“Dating anyone blah blah I know but come on Michael it's been almost six months since you and Luke broke up and Calum is such a sweet guy.” Fiona pleads. She reaches across and pulls Michael's fingers away the bracelets wrapped high around his wrist. A nervous habit he'd had since high school. He's not not sure what to say to that. She's right is the thing, it has been almost six months and Calum has been nothing but nice even after Michael told him no. That doesn’t seem to do anything for Michael though except to make his gut twist terribly and feel like his throat is suddenly going to close up. He knows it nerves but he can’t sort out what kind and it just makes him feel even more fuddled and sick.

“I know,” Michael croaks. He swallows hard and let's go of her right hand to sip his drink again swallowing hard to push down the tightness in his throat.

“Michael it's okay,” Fiona soothes. “but you have to let yourself off the hook. You’ve been blaming yourself about what happened between you and Luke since to it ended and it's not been good for you.” 

“It was my fault though so,” Michael shrugs.

“Mikey-”

“No Fiona, it seriously was my fault I pushed him away and when he tried to get me to let him in I froze him out. He tried everything he could I fucking ruined it.” Michael sits back in his chair and crosses his arms like armour. “It is my fault.”

“You know, Mikey, you don’t have to keep letting it drag you down though,” Fiona says simply before going back to her salad. 

Michael lets his mind wander back to all the times Luke tried to get him to open up to him his mind not really stopping on one moment but hoping around the shattered fragments of their relationship. Random glimpses of when they have yelling matches and Luke would storm around the flat stomping his feet and opening and closing things with more force than necessary until he get tired of being mad at Michael and they would spend the evening cuddled on the couch making up with soft kisses and gentle touches. Michael would apologize just to appease Luke but in hindsight he realized he never actually tried to fix the problem. 

He always just waited for Luke to run out of steam and by then Michael would feel guilty enough to leave whatever he was hiding behind, be it work or something else, and cuddle Luke down onto the couch. That was their cycle, loud then soft. Until the last fight. And Michael still doesn’t even think it counts as fight based on the way they normally fought. It was just Luke pleading with Michael to quit hiding himself away. He never raised his voice and didn’t stomp to their room and slams the drawers and closet door. He didn’t slam the front door when he walked out and Michael didn’t make a sound throughout the entire thing.

They were always like that though. Yelling and cursing even if only jokingly or in excitement they were always loud and then they’d find a moment and everything would just shift over to calm so naturally they never had to work on it. From the very beginning they were like that, when Luke and Michael met the first time two years previous it was because Michael had yelled at Luke in a bar when they were both out with friends.

Luke had been high and wide eyed and laughing obnoxiously when he'd accidentally knocked into a tipsy Michael. Michael had yelled at Luke for spilling his drink but he slurred just the right word that sent Luke off into another fit of high pitched raspy giggles and Michael found himself laughing along before he really knew what else to do. They exchanged messy drunken hand jobs in the bathroom and their phone numbers and Luke had texted him a couple days later asking who the person saved as puppy emoji and sparkly heart was. 

After that they fell into a friendship quickly, texting as often as possible and hanging out anytime they had a chance. Just a month then their first date followed, Michael took Luke to a rock show for this local band in a dingy off the path dive bar and they got drunk on margaritas and danced around like idiots and went back to Luke's place and made out on the couch until his roommates came home and teased them both until Luke was cherry red around the ears and Michael couldn’t breathe for laughing. 

They fell in and out of love just as fast. It only took them a year to move Luke into Michael's apartment without either of them really noticing it happening, Luke's clothes slowly piling into the laundry, his things migrating into Michael apartment to mix in amongst Michael's. Eight more months for things to start going south, yelling becoming less about excitement and more about desperately trying to get at each other less and less time spent together where Michael squirreled away his time at the shop and Luke getting bored and going out on his own when Michael would make him wait for hours, and not coming home until the morning smelling like stale booze and smoke. Four more months to end it all quietly. 

It almost makes sense to Michael now. How quickly it started and progressed and ended. Loud and fast. A flash in the pan romance that Michael should have seen coming from a mile away. They were so good together even before when they were just friends they were practically best friends from the word go. Maybe, Michael thinks, if they wouldn’t stepped off that ledge so quickly they could have just stayed that way. Maybe they could have just been friends and no one would have had to get their heart broken in the first place. He wouldn’t have sat in his apartment for four days after Luke walked out that night just staring at the door. He waited. Luke would always get tired of being mad at Michael and come back to him so he just waited. After the second day Fiona broke in (she has a key) and forced Michael into the shower and then to the dining table and she forced him to eat and then forced them into bed and stroked Michael's back until he finally passed out. She dragged him into the shop the next day and basically made Michael become human again.

He didn’t really feel the break up though until the night at the bar when he saw Luke on a date and it felt like a visceral snap happened somewhere inside his chest. The more he thinks about it the more it feels like he was still waiting he just didn't realize it. Now that it's real though, Michael feels like he's had all this time to be sad and he feels like he should be sad now but he's already wasted all his energy into just existing by himself again and putting a dam on those emotions that he doesn’t have any extra energy for being heart broken like he should.

He snaps back into reality when Fiona gently prods the toe of her boot into his shin. He looks up when she motions with her head and sees Calum waving them goodbye near the door. He waves back small and still mostly dazed but Calum's face lights with a grin that practically creases his entire face and then he's stepping out onto the street and in the opposite direction Michael came in. Fiona makes Michael eat the rest of his food without letting his mind drift off by rambling about a new telenovela she found when she couldn't sleep and watched the whole show even though she couldn’t understand most of it at the time and ended up googling the plot and then following a bunch of blogs devoted to it.

After that they head to the shop to open up and Michael spends all day counting inventory in the back room and going over his thoughts and Fiona’s words again and again. He knows Fiona is right on some level but he just can’t stop the squeezing in gut when he thinks back. He gets the same feeling when he thinks about Calum but twinged with something that makes him kind of nervous. He hasn’t gone out on the floor all day because he doesn’t wanna see if Calum is there with the way his mind feels right now and doesn’t know what he’d say to Calum. 

He knows Calum is nice and he plays the bass but that's it really. He doesn’t actually know him at all and Michael could get to know him if he'd let himself but he doesn’t know. He spends an hour coming up with reasons to not at least befriend Calum and they all sound lame even to himself. He doesn’t want to date anybody right now but that doesn’t mean he couldn’t make a new friend. He’d just have to let Calum know not to expect anything from him beyond friendship and see how he’d take it. If he couldn’t deal with just being friends with Michael then Michael thinks he probably wouldn't want to date him anyway.

By the time he's sorted this all out and decided to talk to Calum it's almost time to close and no one but his employees are around cleaning and counting the drawers. It’ll just have to wait then, Michael thinks. Calum will probably be in tomorrow anyway. Michael goes home and actually cooks himself pancakes for dinner. He eats on the couch and put Jecht’s food dish on the coffee table so they can eat together. He goes to bed late because of a documentary about baby echidnas he finds while channel surfing and sleeps like the dead, dreamless and full of pancakes.

The next day when Michael goes to the shop he works the registers all day and the office so he can catch Calum when he comes in. He’s trying not to feel as excited as his body is trying to tell him he is, because he gets loud when he's excited or so Fiona’s told him. Calum doesn’t show up though and Michael is honestly a little disheartened by it. He doesn't show up the next day either or the day after and Michael thinks it's odd but he has to remind himself that Calum isn’t actually obligated to come to the shop and he can do what he wants. He's got a life probably, Michael thinks, he can’t spend all his time wandering around the basses aimlessly.

He doesn’t come to the shop at all for the next two weeks actually. Michael isn’t sad about it at all and doesn’t mope around the office no matter what Fiona says. He's an adult. He doesn’t mope. He spends the weekend out in another bar he's never been in before with Fiona this time doing shots of tequila and yelling about the football games on the TV even though neither of them have any clue what's happening. Michael doesn’t think about Calum at all. At least not until he's home and drunkenly lamenting to an indifferent Jecht whose only snuggled into Michael's side asleep already. He wakes up with a spilting hangover and meets Fiona for a greasy breakfast at an old diner he spent a lot of time in while he was in college.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Pls leave a comment/kudos if you like it! Find me on tumblr [here!](http://sharkbean.tumblr.com)

**Author's Note:**

> Please please please leave a comment/kudos if you like it i'm v nervous about this and it's kinda my baby. Find me on tumblr [here!](https://pinkpunkmikey.tumblr.com)


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